


fireflies in broad daylight

by touchingashton



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5 Seconds of Summer - Freeform, Ashton Irwin - Freeform, Calum Hood - Freeform, F/M, Luke Hemmings - Freeform, Michael Clifford - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:59:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchingashton/pseuds/touchingashton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it was the rainbow hair - it was almost impossible to distinguish the colour, was it purple or blue? - and the way he swept his fringe to the side of his face and styled it in a way that it stuck out in every direction and still happened to look neat. Or maybe it was his silver eyes that never really looked at you. Perhaps it was his large muscles and his appearance that made him look like he could snap a person's neck with close to no effort. It could have been the way he didn't care about how he looked yet always seemed to make everything work and match. Whatever it was, Meghan Walsh was completely under his spell with no way out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Meghan was never the type of girl to take notice of the other people around her, never cared about her surroundings. She preferred to surround herself with the self centered type of people - the kids who thought of themselves as superior and perfect. Meghan was stunning, of course, as were all her friends. Her short brown hair reached just under her shoulders. Her green eyes could make it seem as if she were looking directly into your soul - but of course you wouldn't mind, that was her spell. She had boys begging at her feet and worshiping the ground she walked on; obviously this didn't phase her. Meghan was aware of her beauty and power and that was that.   
  
Meghan was the eyes and ears of the school. She was the first to know of the happenings and gossip and everybody knew it. The people below her were afraid to approach her. They were afraid of rejection, and that's exactly what would happen every time. Rumours were often spread and nasty words often said but that was bound to happen when you were at the top. The one thing she hadn't expected was to fall under someone else's spell.  
  
First day back from the short 2 month Christmas holidays and Meghan was ready to begin Year 11. She had a plan. Have some fun, screw around, keep her priorities straight. Don't fall in love. Ever. But of course in her eyes, the universe hated her.   
  
Meghan had prepared for the worse and yet she could never have been prepared for this. Change was always bad, and when things didn't go to plan, Meghan got mad. A new boy shouldn't have changed much. A new face shouldn't have changed the rules and the way the game was played. But it did and Meghan was determined to figure out why.   
  
Maybe it was the rainbow hair - it was almost impossible to distinguish the colour, was it purple or blue? - and the way he swept his fringe to the side of his face and styled it in a way that it stuck out in every direction and still happened to look neat. Or maybe it was his silver eyes that never really  _looked_ at you. Perhaps it was his large muscles and his appearance that made him look like he could snap a person's neck with close to no effort. It could have been the way he didn't care about how he looked yet always seemed to make everything work and match.  
  
She certainly did not expect him to be in most of her classes. She first caught sight of him in English - he was late and didn't bother to apologise, obviously going to the bad-boy look. "Mr. Clifford," the old teacher had said. "You're late."  
  
"If you expect me to apologise we're going to be waiting a very long time," the boy had replied in a bitter tone. All he held in his hands was a workbook, a reading book -  _To Kill A Mockingbird_ had been handed out, Meghan assumed he received his at the front office - and a single pen.  
  
The teacher - a large male with a receding hair line - sighed. "Just sit down and be quiet." The fascinating boy smirked and sat in the only available seat - sadly, it was the one next to Meghan.  
  
"This seat taken?" he asked, taking a seat anyway and only asking the question to be nice.   
  
Meghan refused to meet his eyes as she slowly shook her head. She could hear the whispers around her. The  _Oh my God, th_ _at new kid's so hot_ 's and the  _I would totally bang him_ 's. The loudest were the  _I c_ _all dibs_ 's. She was thinking similar things but of course would never dare to word them. She decided she would make the new boy's life here miserable because no one dared to change the rules to her little game, yet here he was changing the game itself.  
  
She willed herself to stay quiet for the whole of the two periods before break. It was difficult, but she managed. When she had left the classroom and made her way outside towards the lockers, she didn't notice much change. She saw her usual group of friends waiting for her by her top locker. She took note of the little path the students would leave for her and smiled. Some things never changed.  
  
It wasn't until lunch that day things had  _re_ _ally_ changed. If there were a fight, Meghan would be the first to know, always. Everyone knew that. But this time - this one time - no one had informed her and she was left wandering to the basketball courts to find the boys involved. She was shocked to see it was the rainbow haired boy himself; beating the living daylights out of one of her best friends.  
  
The boy was dangerous; not somebody you would want to cross. She knew by the way he made it seem effortless as he held her friend down and threw constant punches. Meghan was afraid he'd kill him before someone put an end to it. She was never one to get her hands dirty - she was afraid she'd break a nail. What was she to do?   
  
"Stop!" she shouted. No one paid her any attention, which annoyed her. So she said it a little louder. "STOP!" Everyone's attention turned to her. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she demanded from the rainbow haired boy. He stared at her as if he was really  _seeing_ her for the first time all day. They had shared many glances but only this one time did he really look at her, really pay attention to her.  
  
He immediately dropped the other boy. "Keep your friend in line or I'll do much worse," his cold voice said. She stood frozen in place as his shoulder brushed hers. His skin was icy cold and pale, he was also as hard as rock. It was almost inhumane.   
  
"Andrew!" A girl's shout sounded, pulling Meghan out of her taunting thoughts. That was when she remembered her barely conscious friend.   
  
She ran to him, seeing his nose bloody and his blood smeared across his face. His eyes were surrounded with a purpling bruise and his lip cut. "Call an ambulance!" she shouted. It was a long wait, and the teachers had refused her or any of her friends the chance for them to go with him to the hospital.  
  
"The day will continue on as planned. Everybody get the class," the principle had said. This caused everyone to groan, anxious to know whether Andrew would be okay. The principle wasn't a very liked person as daggers were sent his way, although he didn't seem to notice.   
  
\--  
  
The day continued with no signs of the rainbow haired, stone hard boy. As did the week. And another. He didn't show for three weeks which left rumours to flow and thoughts to haunt. He finally showed on the first day of the fourth week.  
  
Again, he took his seat next to Meghan. She refused to acknowledge him. "Michael," was all he said. She shot him a confused look. "Sorry - my name's Michael. Michael Clifford." She noticed this time he was wearing the school uniform neatly. Grey pants and a white shirt, the maroon tie hanging loosely from his neck.   
  
She nodded at him. As the period went on, he would not take his eyes off of her. She eventually grew tired of it. "What?" she snapped.  
  
He grinned. "Nothing." Michael returned his focus back to the board.  
  
There was something off about this boy, Meghan knew. He had a mysterious vibe to him which left her mind to wonder.  _Was he hiding something? How dangerous was he? Why was it only me that he would_ really  _look at?_


	2. 2

By Wednesday of the fourth week Meghan had known about Michael, she was beyond uncomfortable with the way she would always catch him looking at her. Whether it was from across the courtyard or across the room, his silver eyes would always be set on her.   
  
Meghan often wondered if he wore contacts. Was it really possible to have eyes as silver as his? He had to have  _some_ sort of imperfection. Michael Clifford was the definition of perfect. With his multi-coloured hair and his body structure, Michael's looks were beyond perfect. His personality was charming and Meghan knew why all the girls were already madly in love with him. She had already seen him in P.E and music and already knew he had no flaws. She found it impossible to pick out one simple thing that was wrong about him.  
  
Meghan sat surrounded on one of the tables outside between the large oval and the double basketball courts. "Hey, Meg," she heard one of her friends say. She turned her attention to a blonde headed girl and sent her a bored look. "Did you hear about that thing with that Logan chick and that Calum guy?"  
  
"No. Oh my God, Taylor, spill!" Meghan pretended to act interested for the benefit of her friends.   
  
"Mr. Robinson caught them in the girl's bathroom," Taylor giggled. Meghan laughed at that. She then zoned out, having other things on her mind. Other things like where was Michael? Did he even have friends?  
  
She didn't wonder long before he came into eye sight. He bravely started slowly walking towards her rather large group. All conversation paused and the group went silent. Everybody knew not to come near them. Meghan couldn't keep her eyes off of the boy. His black leather jacket was open over his button-up white school shirt. He confidently looked her in the eyes.  
  
"Your name's Meghan, right?" She didn't know what to say.   
  
He was about to say something else but one of Meghan's friends had cut him off. "Do you need something, mate? We're kind of busy."  
  
"What? Gossiping about other people's business?" Michael snapped. "I hope you all realise that shit is none of your concern."   
  
"Excuse me?" another replied. "What business do you have here, then? If all you're going to do is insult us I suggest you leave."  
  
"And I suggest you watch what you say to me." He looked into Meghan's green eyes.  
  
"You need to leave, Michael," was all she said. She watched him glare at the group and found herself wishing he wouldn't go; but he did. She watched him walk away and into the crowd of tall and short people; teachers and students. How dare he approach her in front of her friends? Had no one told him the rules around here?   
  
\--  
  
Michael avoided Meghan for the rest of the week and she found herself thinking about him through the weekend and into Monday. She refused to approach him, of course. Her reputation was worth much more than a stupid boy. A stupid boy with beautiful hair and a beautiful smile.  
  
Michael didn't approach her again until Tuesday after school. "Hey, Meghan?"   
  
She turned around to face him from where she was at her locker. "Yes?"  
  
"Can I borrow your copy of  _To Kill a Mockingbird?_ I lost mine and my report's overdue."  
  
She didn't hesitate before answering with a quiet, "Sure."  
  
She reaching into her locker and pulled out the small book, placing it into Michael's awaiting hand. Their fingers brushed as he grabbed the book from her grasp and she couldn't help but notice the shiver that ran down her spine and through her body. His skin was insanely cold.  
  
He didn't even mutter a thank you before walking off and down the pathway that led to the front gates of the school. She lost track of him within five seconds.   
  
Wednesday rolled around and Michael had returned her book to her. Thursday also came and went. She first approached him in music - third and fourth period.  
  
"Good luck," she muttered in his ear, smirking as she saw him tense as he felt her warm breath on his ear. Each student would be performing their own piece today in front of the class. Some only playing instrumental covers or originals, others with vocals. Michael was one of those brave ones adding vocals.  
  
Meghan was up first and she had decided to play the instrumental version of  _River Flows in You_  by  _Yiruma_  on the piano. Her performance came and went - she was very talented. The class clapped and cheered for her (excluding Michael who just sat with a bored look on his face and a yawn emitting from his red lips) and she bowed and proudly smiled before stepping down from the stage.  
  
She watched as Michael got up from his seat soundlessly and sat on the stool provided on the stage. He placed his guitar and began to strum. She started to recognise the tune as  _If It Means A Lot To You_ by  _A Day To Remember_. Michael was Meghan's definition of perfect. The way he looked straight into her piercing green eyes as he sang the words effortlessly sent shivers down her spine and caused goose bumps to arise on her  olive skin. His fingers strummed the strings and moved from fret to fret making his work look much less complex than it truly was. Meghan felt like the breath had been taken from her and she found herself quietly gasping for air.  
  
Only then did she realise Michael's set was over and he was gracefully walking across the room to his seat in the back next to her. She felt as if butterflies were swarming in her stomach and she had finally found the air she so desperately needed. "Looking a little pale there, Megs. You okay?" he smirked, making it completely obvious that  he knew that he was the cause for this. She refused to look at him, averting her eyes to anywhere in the room but at him.  
  
Although they had barely said ten words to each other, Michael made Meghan feel more alive than ever. She found herself thinking of him as she tossed and turned in her bed late at night; his face formed itself behind her eyelids. She could make out every feature. The slight stubble that lined his chin and the space between his pink lips and his cute nose; his baby blue eyes that had somehow changed colour during the week from silver - did he wear contacts?  
  
Meghan's thoughts kept her wide awake until the early hours of the morning. His face was permanently painted on the insides of her eyelids - a beautiful picture she saw whenever she closed her eyes. She attempted to draw him. She was quite the artist. She couldn't seem to get anything right. Of course, the drawing looked like him. Light stubble and pale skin; round face and light hair. There was just something off, something she couldn't quite capture.   
  
She eventually gave up and returned to bed. Her thoughts continued to taunt her in her sleep.   
  
 _Meghan stared in horror as Michael Changed. He was once beautiful and charming and everything she had ever wanted; now all she wanted was to be as far away from him as possible. Human blood dripped down his chin and stained his navy blue t-shirt as he stared at her with empty eyes. She was absolutely horrified.  
  
She lifted her hand to feel the two holes where something sharp has seeped into her neck. Meghan wasn't a believer. These sorts of things didn't exist.   
  
"W-What _ are  _you?" she inquired._  
  
 _Michael Clifford - who had once cared for her and had shown affection - cackled. He looked at her as if she were pray and closed in on her. "Darling, I'm your worst nightmare."_


	3. 3

The next few weeks consisted of stolen glances and short answers. The only words exchanged were necessary things such as, "Can you pass me that pencil?" and a short reply of, "Sure." Meghan wished she could hate Michael like the rest of her friends. She wished that the bad feeling he gave her and horrible nightmares were enough to keep her away; but of course he kept louring her back in. How, exactly, she didn't know. She assumed it was the way he spoke as if he had been around for a couple dozen years at least.  
  
After Michael's performance in music class Meghan had found it near impossible to get his beautiful voice out of her head. She had yet to find a flaw in the boy and it was driving her mad. Surely no one could be that perfect. She had kept zoning out every now and then, thinking about her dream, her parents, her grades, boys and - obviously - Michael. Her friends had started to notice.   
  
"Megs, you okay?" one of them - Yasmien - had asked. She just nodded her head and sent a reassuring smile her way. She was an expert at lying.   
  
Her home life wasn't any better. With her parents absorbed in work and each other, Meghan was paid little attention. "Mum, could you read over this for me?" Meghan would ask after completing her homework. "Sorry, pumpkin. I've got to go," she would always reply. "Dad, could you help me with something? It's for school," Meghan would question. "Sorry, bub. I'm all booked out," he would tell her.   
  
There was no doubt that Meghan wanted attention. When you had just been a problem to the most important people in the world, it left you empty and was sure to leave you needing more. Just like Meghan. Empty and ignored and all she wanted was someone to just  _see_ her for her, not who she pretended to be.   
  
The first day Michael Clifford began to make an effort was the day Mr. Henderson decided to assign a partner task in history.   
  
"You will find out about each other's history," he explained. "You will learn about their family and their interests, what it was like growing up and most importantly, you will discover their darkest secrets." Everybody groaned at this. "This task will go on for the rest of the semester" - that was only six weeks in which they had twelve history periods - "and it will be your best. I want a ten page essay on your partners and I want it detailed; understood?"   
  
The class understood but that didn't mean they liked it. Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes at their fairly tall, fairly skinny mid-aged history teacher. "You will not be choosing your partners as I expect you to start from scratch. Work with a complete stranger. You may or may not even know their names." Meghan hated this. She wanted out. "So the first pair is Taylor and Jenna," Mr. Henderson listed. "Kristin and Louis," he spoke in a monotone. "Meghan and Michael." Meghan's green eyes widened. She looked across from her to see Michael smirking.   
  
She slowly stood up and walked to the front of the classroom to receive her and Michael's papers and returned to her seat. "So," Michael said. "Who's house?"   
  
Meghan choked on the air she was breathing. "I'm sorry, what?"  
  
"Who's house are we going to do this thing at?"  
  
"Oh," was all she could manage to say. "Um, whatever. Doesn't bother me - you choose."  
  
"I guess we're heading to yours, then." The very answer Meghan had hoped to avoid. She didn't want to sound too needy or like she actually  _wanted_ to do this with him, but the last thing she wanted was for Michael to be at her house while her parents were home.   
  
\--  
  
"So, we walking?" Michael had walked her out of class and to her locker. He was now trailing behind her as she walked towards the front of the busy school.  
  
"Um, I normally catch a ride with Yasmien," she told him. "You're welcome to join."   
  
"How far do you live?" He was clearly never going to accept her offer.   
  
She thought about it. "Probably about ten minutes away, walking." He took her arm and dragged her along.   
  
"We're walking."   
  
\--  
  
"Just- be nice, please. My parents aren't too big on company."   
  
"When am I not nice?" Meghan rolled her eyes and opened the front door to her house.   
  
"I'm home!" she shouted as she threw her bag against the lounge room wall. As she had expected, she received no response aside from the usual silence.   
  
"Are your parents even home?" Michael questioned. She didn't look at him, but continued upstairs to her bedroom. Michael followed.   
  
"Yeah, they always are around this time. Just busy, I guess." He thankfully dropped the subject and took a look around her room. "Uh, sorry for the mess." She made an attempt to clean up a few things on her floor and straighten out her bed. Her room consisted mostly of posters ripped out of magazines of her favourite celebrities - One Direction, Taylor Lautner, Zac Efron - against three of four of the creamy walls. The wall right across from the door was covered in photos she had collected over the years of her and her closest friends. There were many, of course, but none that really stood out to her. None that made her say, "I remember that day. How could I forget? It was the best day with my best friend!" because of course no one stuck around long enough to give her the opportunity.   
  
"Is this you?" Michael pointed to a picture of the wall. She nodded. "You look pretty. Are they your parents?" The picture was of her and her parents at the beach when she was six. Little Meghan was standing in the middle, her mother on her left and her father on her right. She was on her tippy toes yet still only reached to her mother's mid-stomach and just a bit lower on her father. She had quite a small figure that stayed with her throughout the years.   
  
"Yeah. That was back when I was six. My sixth birthday, actually." Michael sent her a soft, sad smile as he heard her voice crack.  _Don't cry here. Not in front of him._ "So, uh, should we get started?"   
  
Their eyes locked; green on blue. His eyes were as bright and beautiful as a clear ocean that held promise. "Of course."   
  
They sat across from each other on Meghan's queen-sized bed which was placed on the right wall from the door. She had a black and white bedspread that looked as if someone had cut out articles out of a local newspaper and stuck them on - it was her kind of beautiful. Michael's platinum hair made his skin look so much more lighter and paler as if he had never been out in the sun. It was newly dyed, she thought, seeing as just a few days ago his hair had been a beautiful rainbow mix of purple, blue and black.   
  
"Tell me about yourself," Michael started. Meghan didn't know where to start. Did he want to hear her whole blabber story or just the important basics?  _Could_ she tell him everything or was she to leave out the unimportant things?   
  
"Uh, I had a nice childhood," she started, finally making her choice after a long minute of thinking. "I had quite a few friends and I was a fairly happy kid. I got what I wanted. Nothing's changed, really. Parents are always busy so I'm always out with friends."   
  
"That's all?"   
  
"That's all."  
  
"You have to give me more than that, Meghan," he told her, exasperated. "How am I supposed to learn about you if all you tell me are things I already know? You're popular, you're spoiled and your parents are too busy to pay much attention to you. I need more of a back story." Meghan was shocked. She had hoped that would be enough to shut him up - it shut everyone else up, why did he want to pry?  
  
"Why are you so interested in me?"  
  
For a moment it looked as if Michael was about to answer with something sincere but soon changed his mind. "I need to write an essay on you. I need to know this stuff if I want to pass."   
  
"Oh," was all she could reply with. "Well, let's start with you then. Tell me about your childhood."   
  
Michael sighed in annoyance. "Fine. I was born in Sydney. Moved a lot," he said as if all of this bored him and he had told the tale a thousand times. "I lived in London for two years - I moved there with my parents when I was three. I lived just outside of Paris when I was six - stayed for five years. I then moved to Alaska when I was eleven; I called that place my home for six years. Now here I am. Melbourne, Australia."  
  
Meghan was shocked. That was most definitely not the answer she was expecting. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. Michael sent her a confused look which she bluntly ignored. "Do you still live with your parents?"   
  
"I lost contact a few years ago. I'm emancipated."   
  
"How does it feel?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"To be emancipated. To not have anyone holding you back."  
  
"Oh, I have people holding me back."  
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
He ignored her question. "Your turn."   
  
"Oh, well, I guess I'll start from the same point as you." This part was the easiest to tell of the story. "I've actually never been out of Melbourne. I mean, we have the money to with my parents being lawyers and all."  
  
"Your parents are lawyers?" Michael truly seemed interested in Meghan and it surprised her. It was nice to have someone notice her and actually want to know about  _her._  
  
"Yeah, that's why they're so busy," she smiled a small smile. "I guess it just gets really annoying sometimes. I'm lucky if I get to say three words to them a week." Michael continued to pay attention and listen to her sob story as if fascinated by her. "When I was little I had a nanny and was always out of the house - my parents never really had time for me. I guess that's how I spent my whole childhood," Meghan sighed. "I'm an only child so I couldn't really entertain myself."   
  
"Has anyone ever informed you of your true beauty?" Michael suddenly asked in his beautiful, low, angelic voice. The sound made Meghan want to faint and made butterflies arise in her stomach. He was simply wonderful.  
  
"I've been told I'm hot." She tried to make it seem as though that was a compliment to her; Michael knew better. He could see through her act. Meghan was all alone in her old little world - Michael was determined to get her to let him in.  
  
"That's not good enough, Meghan," Michael whispered. "You truly are a beautiful girl."   
  
Meghan could feel her cheeks heat up at the compliment and she smiled a small smile as she lowered her hand as if her fingers suddenly interested her. "Thanks," she said under her breath.   
  
Michael put his long thin finger under her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Green on blue, a beautiful field on a sparkling ocean. Their faces were unbelievably close; she could feel his breath on her lips. From this point of view, Meghan was able to distinguish the exact colour of his lips and she could notice the little things. The things like his teeth were perfectly straight and pearly white. She could see how Michael had no visible flaws and how he had no crows feet at the corners of his eyes that showed he often laughed and smiled. Meghan wanted to kiss him in that exact moment.   
  
So she did. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him with everything inside of her. Her hands in his hair and his cupping her cheeks, she couldn't help but think that the moment could not have been more perfect.


	4. 4

The next few weeks consisted of stolen glances and short answers. The only words exchanged were necessary things such as, "Can you pass me that pencil?" and a short reply of, "Sure." Meghan wished she could hate Michael like the rest of her friends. She wished that the bad feeling he gave her and horrible nightmares were enough to keep her away; but of course he kept louring her back in. How, exactly, she didn't know. She assumed it was the way he spoke as if he had been around for a couple dozen years at least.  
  
After Michael's performance in music class Meghan had found it near impossible to get his beautiful voice out of her head. She had yet to find a flaw in the boy and it was driving her mad. Surely no one could be that perfect. She had kept zoning out every now and then, thinking about her dream, her parents, her grades, boys and - obviously - Michael. Her friends had started to notice.   
  
"Megs, you okay?" one of them - Yasmien - had asked. She just nodded her head and sent a reassuring smile her way. She was an expert at lying.   
  
Her home life wasn't any better. With her parents absorbed in work and each other, Meghan was paid little attention. "Mum, could you read over this for me?" Meghan would ask after completing her homework. "Sorry, pumpkin. I've got to go," she would always reply. "Dad, could you help me with something? It's for school," Meghan would question. "Sorry, bub. I'm all booked out," he would tell her.   
  
There was no doubt that Meghan wanted attention. When you had just been a problem to the most important people in the world, it left you empty and was sure to leave you needing more. Just like Meghan. Empty and ignored and all she wanted was someone to just  _see_ her for her, not who she pretended to be.   
  
The first day Michael Clifford began to make an effort was the day Mr. Henderson decided to assign a partner task in history.   
  
"You will find out about each other's history," he explained. "You will learn about their family and their interests, what it was like growing up and most importantly, you will discover their darkest secrets." Everybody groaned at this. "This task will go on for the rest of the semester" - that was only six weeks in which they had twelve history periods - "and it will be your best. I want a ten page essay on your partners and I want it detailed; understood?"   
  
The class understood but that didn't mean they liked it. Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes at their fairly tall, fairly skinny mid-aged history teacher. "You will not be choosing your partners as I expect you to start from scratch. Work with a complete stranger. You may or may not even know their names." Meghan hated this. She wanted out. "So the first pair is Taylor and Jenna," Mr. Henderson listed. "Kristin and Louis," he spoke in a monotone. "Meghan and Michael." Meghan's green eyes widened. She looked across from her to see Michael smirking.   
  
She slowly stood up and walked to the front of the classroom to receive her and Michael's papers and returned to her seat. "So," Michael said. "Who's house?"   
  
Meghan choked on the air she was breathing. "I'm sorry, what?"  
  
"Who's house are we going to do this thing at?"  
  
"Oh," was all she could manage to say. "Um, whatever. Doesn't bother me - you choose."  
  
"I guess we're heading to yours, then." The very answer Meghan had hoped to avoid. She didn't want to sound too needy or like she actually  _wanted_ to do this with him, but the last thing she wanted was for Michael to be at her house while her parents were home.   
  
\--  
  
"So, we walking?" Michael had walked her out of class and to her locker. He was now trailing behind her as she walked towards the front of the busy school.  
  
"Um, I normally catch a ride with Yasmien," she told him. "You're welcome to join."   
  
"How far do you live?" He was clearly never going to accept her offer.   
  
She thought about it. "Probably about ten minutes away, walking." He took her arm and dragged her along.   
  
"We're walking."   
  
\--  
  
"Just- be nice, please. My parents aren't too big on company."   
  
"When am I not nice?" Meghan rolled her eyes and opened the front door to her house.   
  
"I'm home!" she shouted as she threw her bag against the lounge room wall. As she had expected, she received no response aside from the usual silence.   
  
"Are your parents even home?" Michael questioned. She didn't look at him, but continued upstairs to her bedroom. Michael followed.   
  
"Yeah, they always are around this time. Just busy, I guess." He thankfully dropped the subject and took a look around her room. "Uh, sorry for the mess." She made an attempt to clean up a few things on her floor and straighten out her bed. Her room consisted mostly of posters ripped out of magazines of her favourite celebrities - One Direction, Taylor Lautner, Zac Efron - against three of four of the creamy walls. The wall right across from the door was covered in photos she had collected over the years of her and her closest friends. There were many, of course, but none that really stood out to her. None that made her say, "I remember that day. How could I forget? It was the best day with my best friend!" because of course no one stuck around long enough to give her the opportunity.   
  
"Is this you?" Michael pointed to a picture of the wall. She nodded. "You look pretty. Are they your parents?" The picture was of her and her parents at the beach when she was six. Little Meghan was standing in the middle, her mother on her left and her father on her right. She was on her tippy toes yet still only reached to her mother's mid-stomach and just a bit lower on her father. She had quite a small figure that stayed with her throughout the years.   
  
"Yeah. That was back when I was six. My sixth birthday, actually." Michael sent her a soft, sad smile as he heard her voice crack.  _Don't cry here. Not in front of him._ "So, uh, should we get started?"   
  
Their eyes locked; green on blue. His eyes were as bright and beautiful as a clear ocean that held promise. "Of course."   
  
They sat across from each other on Meghan's queen-sized bed which was placed on the right wall from the door. She had a black and white bedspread that looked as if someone had cut out articles out of a local newspaper and stuck them on - it was her kind of beautiful. Michael's platinum hair made his skin look so much more lighter and paler as if he had never been out in the sun. It was newly dyed, she thought, seeing as just a few days ago his hair had been a beautiful rainbow mix of purple, blue and black.   
  
"Tell me about yourself," Michael started. Meghan didn't know where to start. Did he want to hear her whole blabber story or just the important basics?  _Could_ she tell him everything or was she to leave out the unimportant things?   
  
"Uh, I had a nice childhood," she started, finally making her choice after a long minute of thinking. "I had quite a few friends and I was a fairly happy kid. I got what I wanted. Nothing's changed, really. Parents are always busy so I'm always out with friends."   
  
"That's all?"   
  
"That's all."  
  
"You have to give me more than that, Meghan," he told her, exasperated. "How am I supposed to learn about you if all you tell me are things I already know? You're popular, you're spoiled and your parents are too busy to pay much attention to you. I need more of a back story." Meghan was shocked. She had hoped that would be enough to shut him up - it shut everyone else up, why did he want to pry?  
  
"Why are you so interested in me?"  
  
For a moment it looked as if Michael was about to answer with something sincere but soon changed his mind. "I need to write an essay on you. I need to know this stuff if I want to pass."   
  
"Oh," was all she could reply with. "Well, let's start with you then. Tell me about your childhood."   
  
Michael sighed in annoyance. "Fine. I was born in Sydney. Moved a lot," he said as if all of this bored him and he had told the tale a thousand times. "I lived in London for two years - I moved there with my parents when I was three. I lived just outside of Paris when I was six - stayed for five years. I then moved to Alaska when I was eleven; I called that place my home for six years. Now here I am. Melbourne, Australia."  
  
Meghan was shocked. That was most definitely not the answer she was expecting. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. Michael sent her a confused look which she bluntly ignored. "Do you still live with your parents?"   
  
"I lost contact a few years ago. I'm emancipated."   
  
"How does it feel?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"To be emancipated. To not have anyone holding you back."  
  
"Oh, I have people holding me back."  
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
He ignored her question. "Your turn."   
  
"Oh, well, I guess I'll start from the same point as you." This part was the easiest to tell of the story. "I've actually never been out of Melbourne. I mean, we have the money to with my parents being lawyers and all."  
  
"Your parents are lawyers?" Michael truly seemed interested in Meghan and it surprised her. It was nice to have someone notice her and actually want to know about  _her._  
  
"Yeah, that's why they're so busy," she smiled a small smile. "I guess it just gets really annoying sometimes. I'm lucky if I get to say three words to them a week." Michael continued to pay attention and listen to her sob story as if fascinated by her. "When I was little I had a nanny and was always out of the house - my parents never really had time for me. I guess that's how I spent my whole childhood," Meghan sighed. "I'm an only child so I couldn't really entertain myself."   
  
"Has anyone ever informed you of your true beauty?" Michael suddenly asked in his beautiful, low, angelic voice. The sound made Meghan want to faint and made butterflies arise in her stomach. He was simply wonderful.  
  
"I've been told I'm hot." She tried to make it seem as though that was a compliment to her; Michael knew better. He could see through her act. Meghan was all alone in her old little world - Michael was determined to get her to let him in.  
  
"That's not good enough, Meghan," Michael whispered. "You truly are a beautiful girl."   
  
Meghan could feel her cheeks heat up at the compliment and she smiled a small smile as she lowered her hand as if her fingers suddenly interested her. "Thanks," she said under her breath.   
  
Michael put his long thin finger under her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Green on blue, a beautiful field on a sparkling ocean. Their faces were unbelievably close; she could feel his breath on her lips. From this point of view, Meghan was able to distinguish the exact colour of his lips and she could notice the little things. The things like his teeth were perfectly straight and pearly white. She could see how Michael had no visible flaws and how he had no crows feet at the corners of his eyes that showed he often laughed and smiled. Meghan wanted to kiss him in that exact moment.   
  
So she did. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him with everything inside of her. Her hands in his hair and his cupping her cheeks, she couldn't help but think that the moment could not have been more perfect.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> very boring chapter which i am sorry for but i was a bit stuck

Michael didn't show up to school the next day. Or the day after that. In fact, he did not show his face for two weeks and it was driving Meghan mad. Had she done something wrong? Did he suddenly hate her? Had he suddenly changed his mind and couldn't bare to see her face? Had something else happened?  
  
For the fifteenth time since she had last seen Michael, she walked onto the school grounds alone. She wore the navy blue plaid skirt three centre-meters above her knees and the loose button-up white shirt underneath her navy blue cotton jumper. It was unbelievably cold for mid-Spring. Goosebumps arose on her golden skin as she made her way through the yard and towards her locker where her friends were waiting for her.   
  
"Did you hear about Tam?" Jenna questioned. Meghan shook her head and waited for Jenna to continue. "They found her body this morning near the lake. They say it was an animal attack."   
  
Meghan gasped in shock. There had been many animal attacks lately and although the police were telling the media that everything was under control, it was bluntly obvious that it was not. Tamsin, the girl with the ginger hair and the golden eyes. Tamsin, the girl with the pale skin and freckle-covered face. Tamsin, the girl with the astonishing artistic skills of someone that had been doing art for over thirty years was gone. Meghan gasped for air as the world started spinning around her.   
  
"D-Do they know what animal?" Meghan asked once she had finally gained control of her body once more.   
  
"No. They say it was a bear but we don't get those around here. We don't get any of those sorts of animals." Jenna paused and let silence consume the group for a moment. "Do you guys believe it was an animal attack?"   
  
"Of course; what else could do something like that?" Jake was the first to reply. Everyone agreed. Meghan stated that if that was what the police were saying then it must be true, but deep down in her heart there was a tugging feeling and she knew that not for one moment did she believe a word she was told. What kind of animal left a body drained of blood?  
  
She was pulled out of her thoughts by Yasmien shaking her arm. "Meg? Meghan!" Meghan looked her friend in the eyes expectantly. "Have you heard from Michael lately?"   
  
"Um, no," she answered. "Why?"  
  
"I don't know; he just seems a bit strange." Meghan glared at her and walked off towards her first class. She hated the fact that her friends did not accept him nor their relationship. Could they not see that they truly cared for each other? Michael was like sunshine and he never failed to make her day brighter. She wasn't sure what it was exactly that attracted her. It could have been his striking silver (sometimes a soft blue that reminded her of the ocean) eyes or his pale complexion and rainbow hair. She wondered if it was his sarcastic remarks that made her smile every now-and-then, or the glint in his eyes that assured her that he was happy around her.   
  
Meghan continued on with her day. Although the sun shone bright and she felt the heat radiate off of her skin Meghan could not help but feel as if everything were wrong. She knew it was warm and a happy day but she felt cold and unbearably lonely. After two weeks without Michael's arms around her she felt like she was falling and there was nobody to catch her.   
  
\--   
  
The soft pitter patter of the light rain on the timber roof was a peaceful sound to him. He shut his eyes gently and allowed his body to relax into the soft black leather couch. Michael could not bear to look into the loving green eyes of the girl whom had him trapped under her spell. Her eyes held in innocence in which he loved and cherished, although he hated the way she thought of him. She believed he was an innocent boy that had never done anything terrible in his lifetime. She believed he had a heart. She believed he deserved love and happiness.   
  
After what he had put innocent people though, Michael was beginning to find it  difficult  to live with himself. The lives he had taken for his own pleasure was appalling. Although it was his nature it was not near acceptable. He had drained the life out of people who had beautiful lives; people who had families; people who had found happiness. He had taken that away from them and their loved ones and he hated himself for it.   
  
He did not want to drag Meghan into his miserable world and put her in danger. He was of the supernatural and she was not. She was a human being whom would grow old with someone she loved and would make the most of her life before that, too, was torn away from her.   
  
Michael wanted to be able grow old  _with_  her. He wanted to hold her fragile frame in his strong arms and kiss her pretty pink lips until their hairs were grey. He wanted to watch her grow and travel the world with her and show her all the sites he's ever seen. Michael loved her, he was sure of it, although he knew it was too soon to admit it to her. They had only been dating a few weeks and he was confident that it would push her away.   
  
He looked out the window as the soft rainfall became heavier by the second, banging angrily on every corner of the walls and closed windows outside in the freezing cold. After what he had done he had run far away from Melbourne and from Meghan in an attempt to escape the guilt. It of course had failed to work.   
  
The dark clouds roared above and he saw a slight flash of bright light across the garden; lightening. He sighed in frustration but didn't dare to move a muscle. Over the loud sound of the heavy rainfall landing on the windows and the occasional clash of thunder, Michael could hear cars roar by a few streets away and could see through the fog that swallowed up the empty house in which he thought of as his temporary home. He would feel his blood running through his veins and could smell the disgusting smell of a rotting body. It was himself, he thought. All of his senses were clearer because he was hungry.  
  
He was punishing himself for punishing others. He would not allow himself to feed until he was afraid the thirst would take control and he would hurt another. He could feel that moment nearing but decided to ignore it.  
  
He sat completely still; motionless. Over the years he had gotten used to the fact that he no longer had to breathe to survive because of the fact that his heart no longer beat.   
  
A loud buzzing sound interrupted the perfect silence that Michael had engulfed himself in. He looked at his vibrating phone that rest on the armrest of the chair he was seated on.  _Meghan._ He knew he should answer, tell her  _something, anything_ , to stop her from worrying. But she had questions and he did not have answers. He pressed the decline button before refocusing his dull eyes to the slowing rain. He was truly miserable with himself and what he had done but also knew that he had to face facts soon. He just couldn't bear the look of anger on Meghan's face when she finally saw him again.   
  
Over the years he learnt how to deal with the guilt and pain of taking one's life. Drink it away. Drink until your body goes numb and you can't see straight and you know for sure you've washed it all out of your system. So that's exactly what he spent his last night alone doing. He turned the music up loud and danced alone as he washed away any emotion he felt. He always believed being numb was better than the ache of guilt and the sadness that engulfed him. He spent his last night of being alone and drowning in regrets drinking and partying alone as if his life was somehow worth living.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i don't even know where i'm going with this any more

It was only a mere two weeks. Two weeks without his everything and two weeks full of guilt and alcohol. That's how long it took for Michael to finally accept the past and realise that Meghan needed him. She never gave up. She would call every opportunity and leave loving messages letting Michael know that she's worried and to please call her soon.  
  
Michael waltzed into school that day as if nothing happened and he hadn't been missing for the past two weeks. As predicted, people stared and people talked. He didn't let it phase him.  
  
The first thing he saw was his wonderful, glowing girlfriend. He let a smile tug at his lips as he made his way towards her, only to be infuriated by the sight of her flirting with another boy. He stood and watched, his body shaking and his face reddening at the sight of her laughing and lightly touching the boy's arm before waving and walking in the opposite direction. Michael soon became calm as he took a closer look, his sharp vision letting him see more clearly than an ordinary human could.   
  
He saw her shoulders slump as she walked and her back arch slightly. She walked with her head down and her body almost shut down, weak and fragile. He was amazed at how quickly her mood had changed. She acted like summer and walked like rain.   
  
Only then did he realise that it was possible that he had made her feel this way. He felt horrible. Never would he ever want to hurt the one true thing stabilising him. His source of happiness was no longer happy and it was absolutely devastating. He cautiously walked towards her and hung his head down low. He followed her to her locker until finally gaining the confidence to notify her of his presence.   
  
"Uh, hey, Megs," he awkwardly said. She spun around at the sound of his voice, eyes wide, and jumped into his arms.   
  
"Michael! Where the hell have you been?!" The smile on her face was evident and his lips tugged into a small grin as he saw the happiness return to her glittering green eyes. It was if all the sunshine that had recently been sucked out of her had instantly been giving back and she was able to light up the place again and make him feel whole.   
  
He placed his hands on her waist and placed his lips on hers for a quick moment before pulling back and responding. "Family stuff. I'm sorry I didn't return any of your calls."   
  
"It's okay; you're here now."   
  
\--  
  
"I want to take you on a date," Michael randomly stated. He sat with his girlfriend in his arms on her couch. Her mum wasn't home, neither was her father (not that the situation is out of the ordinary) and he was over to get some homework done. They were taking yet another break.  
  
"You don't have to, Michael." Meghan felt flattered but didn't want Michael to go all out. She was content with how they were and didn't want Michael to spend any money of her, if that was what he was planning.   
  
"No, but I want to. It's the right thing to do," he said. "Besides, I've done this all wrong. I may as well take my chance to make it all right."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
Michael sighed and looked her in the eyes. He could hear her heartbeat racing - thanks to being one of the supernatural - and knew that she truly did enjoy his company. It was nice to know he had that effect on her. "I was meant to get to know you better. It would have been right to ask your parents' permission to take you out on a few dates first before kissing or dating you." He looked at her. "Not that I would change what we have now."  
  
She blushed slightly. "Okay."   
  
"Okay?"   
  
She laughed. God, he thought, her laugh was beautiful. "Okay."   
  
He smiled brightly at her, the fondness in his eyes making Meghan's heart flutter and her insides tingle. "I'll pick you up at seven. Wear something fancy." And just like that he was gone, out of her arms and into the night.   
  
\--   
  
At precisely seven o'clock at night - not a second past (Meghan checked) - there was a knock at the door. She checked herself in the mirror one last time. She smiled at the sight of her beauty (she had to admit, she could be quite stunning when she tried to be). She was dressed in a red tight dress that reached the middle of her thighs and large black heels to match. Her lips were a bright red, coated in her favourite red lipstick and a smoky eye shadow that made her chocolate eyes stand out. Her short hair was straightened and down, resting just above her shoulders.  
  
Meghan walked over to the door and was at a loss of words at the sight of her boyfriend dressed in a black suit. His usual blue eyes had once again gone a light silver. Weird, she thought.  
  
Their eyes locked and silence hung in the air. "Hi," Meghan finally breathed.   
  
Michael's eyes shot up and he smiled a smile so bright Meghan swore he could light up the room. It was as if it no longer mattered whether the stars were in the sky or the clouds covered the moon - Michael's smile could light up the place more than they ever could. "Hey," he said. "You look beautiful."   
  
Meghan flushed a deep red and grinned. "Thanks."   
  
"You ready to go?"   
  
"What? Oh, uh, yeah." She reached behind her to the small stand that was situated in the hallway and grabbed her purse and phone, locking the door on her way out. "Where are we going?"   
  
"That new place down the road. You been before?"   
  
"No," Meghan said. She sat in the passenger seat before Michael drove off. "Michael, that place is so expensive-"   
  
"Don't worry about it. My treat. I said I'd take you on a proper date like a gentleman, didn't I?"   
  
Meghan smiled a soft smile that could make Michael's unbeating heart flutter. "Yeah. Yeah, you did."   
  
The ride there was quiet and went by slowly. Meghan watched the seconds on the digital car clock tick by and the sun set beyond the hills. Minutes passed and they were yet to arrive.   
  
"This place... It isn't just down the road, is it?"   
  
Michael chuckled. "So you finally figured it out." Meghan's face paled. "It's all right, Meghan. The restaurant's just a few more minutes away."   
  
Meghan instantly relaxed. She looked out the window, bright eyes sparkling against the moonlight. The shining lights illuminated the area and shimmered away in the corner of her eyes on the reflection of the car window. The city lights and the buzzing cars brought a smile to Meghan's face. The wonders of the city truly made her happy and the view was absolutely beautiful to her.  
  
She turned and faced Michael as the car stopped. "We're here," he said softly.   
  
He climbed out of the car and opened the door for Meghan. "Thank you," she said. He replied with a small smile that made her heart flutter up to the stars.   
  
He held her small hand tightly in his own as they walked together into the restaurant. Meghan gasped quietly, shocked at the sudden coldness she felt against Michael's skin. She didn't dare say a word as they were led to a hidden table in the back.   
  
They ordered and they talked. Minutes flew by. Minutes turned into an hour, and one turned into two. Meghan was overwhelmed with the happiness that Michael brought her and instantly knew that her feelings for the boy were growing each day.  
  
"You know, I don't know a thing about you," Meghan finally said. Michael stopped laughing immediately and shot her a questioning look. "You say you've travelled, but you've never told me why or where. And what about your parents? Your disappearances? I don't even know where you live, Michael."   
  
He looked down at his empty plate. "Why do you need to know, anyway?"   
  
"I'm your girlfriend! Why shouldn't I know?"  
  
There was a loud bang and shouts were heard and suddenly everything was moving too quickly for Meghan to properly register. She felt Michael's hands grab at her arm and drag her out of the back entrance and into the cold air of the night. She didn't have time to ask questions before a blur of colour crossed her vision and she was suddenly pushed hard across the parking lot and into a car.  
  
She struggled to catch her breath before looking up and hearing loud hisses and shouts. "Run, Meghan,  _run!_ " Michael's voice sounded from a few feet away. Meghan knew he was right, and that she should just  _run,_ but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to move her feet.   
  
She watched her boyfriend's face turn into something monstrous and was frightened by the sounds that echoes through her ears. She was close enough to see the little details. The details such as his eyes turning black and his veins show on his face. The details like the sharp teeth that sunk deep into the frightening men's necks and the hisses and emitted from his mouth as he did so.  
  
She ran. She ran as fast as she could and let the screams fall out of her mouth. She screamed for help that would never come and cried for a boy that never was. She felt a tight grip on her arm and was twisted around to face a terrifying sight. He stood in front of her, jaw covered in fresh human blood and eyes as black as the night sky.   
  
Meghan screamed so loud she felt her throat go raw. He looked her in the eye and she could no longer scream. "Don't be afraid." She felt every ounce of fear leave her body.  
  
"Do not scream." She went completely silent.  
  
"Do not move." Her body went rigid.   
  
"Forget about this. We had a nice date and I drove you home at the end of the night. That's all that happened."   
  
"We had a nice date and you drove me home at the end of the night. That's all that happened," she repeated almost immediately. Her mind went blank and her vision blurred. Her knees wobbled and she fell into the strong arms of the monster that was her boyfriend. 


End file.
